A Dance in an Attic
by RenaCassava
Summary: Short, sweet, and amusing, like its leading character. After reading so many Marco fics of unrequited love, I was bound to do this. Marco may be the snarkiest animorph, but he can do romance. Oh, he can make romance look *good*.


I watched with interest as her nimble fingers adjusted the antennae, finding a frequency. What can I say? It was probably the world's oldest functioning pawn shop radio. "Functioning" is a generous a word for what it does. Anyways, she found a station with less static than the others and brightened when she heard the guitar interlude.

"I love this song," she informed me. I watched her walk back over. She usually has two walks: the impatient to be somewhere stalk, or this weird lost-in-thought kind of saunter that draws the eyes of anyone with a drop of testosterone. She was doing the saunter now, and there was no one around to watch but me. My private show.

Kneeling beside me a moment and taking my hand, she leaned to whisper in my ear-- "Dance with me." I suppressed a shiver (her breath was nice and warm) and complied, standing up with her. There was a moment of hesitation on my part before she drew my hands up to her waist. I met her eyes and returned the grin she was giving me.

"Funny that you should ask. I am, after all, Lord of the Dance."

"Save it, Michael Flatley. I'm dancing with Marco right now."

"Si, senorita." I finally dropped the phony accent and shut up once the lyrics began, being drawn into the song weaving this rare, highly enjoyable moment.

_**"The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you.**_

_**Strange what desire will make foolish people do.**_

_**I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…**_

_**And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…"**_

My hands slipped up her sides as she swayed to the music. I caught enough of the lyrics to know the song was "Wicked Game", but my every sense was attuned to her. The way she was looking at me—moving with me now. Her eyes glimmered with an all too familiar glint of mischief. The one that usually happened before we were running from the scene of a lot of carnage.

"Have you ever thought about it?" she murmured. Her hips swayed suggestively, and my thoughts went a bit haywire.

"Erhm... clarify 'it'." _Don't feel like getting slapped today._

"You. Me. Doing naughty things that parents would not approve of."

_Hello, Marco. Welcome to the Twilight Zone._ "Oh," I faltered. "_That_ 'it'." I think I actually felt my heart leap into my throat at that point. I'd read about that interesting phenomenon. Strange that my life had been in jeopardy so many times, and my heart only _now_ decided to undergo esophagal arrest. I felt heat rising in my cheeks. Where was my sarcasm when I needed it? "Well--"

She laughed, and I suddenly envied the ease with which she could have this conversation. She saved me from replying by taking my hand again and twirling.

**_"No I want to fall in love…_**

**_No I want to fall in love…_**

**_With you…"_**

I watched her spin and pull herself out to arm's length from me, then I drew her back in.

_With you._

"I think you have," she murmured playfully. Our faces were inches apart. Dance classes had so paid off.

"What if you're right?" I demanded.

"Then this won't really surprise you," she replied. And then she moved her face those few crucial inches closer, and her lips were suddenly getting acquainted with mine.

She was wrong. Oh, so wrong, and wonderful. After a moment, I got over my shock and returned her kiss, surprised when she gently parted my lips with her tongue.

_Dios mio._

Despite everything going on in my head at that moment, I found myself sliding one hand higher on her back, supporting her, pulling her even closer to me. What can I say? I'm a natural.

_This is it, Marco. You are totally making out with a beautiful, reasonably sane human girl. And she likes video games. _

Somewhere in the background, Chris Isaak crooned on, oblivious to the two teenagers making out just a few feet away. At some delirious point in time, we moved over to my bed. In another, I came out of my haze enough to hear him say something I won't ever forget.

"Nobody loves no one."

And in that moment, I think I actually agreed with him.

* * *

R: Wow. When taken out of context in the rest of this story, I realize just how cliché all of that sounds. 

M: Uh, yea. What she said. (maneuvers Ecco the Dolphin around in search of a purple fish)

Thank you, my two wonderful reviewers. Input is good! As for detailing the lucky girl in this story, though... I like keeping that person vague, so she could be just about anyone. I think it's more fun if anyone who has a mind to can put themselves in the character's shoes. If I ever get the guts to do more than a one-shot, there will be plenty of description to go around. Probably too much. I tend to ramble.


End file.
